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The fifth instalment in the label’s well-established Fluid Files series, this new mosaic of sun-streaked joints summons the voices of faces old and new, sewn together with that similar Chicago-typical, laid-back attitude and a thread of unstoppable funkiness.

Diving first with a slice of velvety, looped out piano house boogie on a solid French filtered house tip, Dutch outfit Fouk lays down a proper enticing number for the late summer hours, packed with elastic bass jack, anthemic stabs and a sun-kissed shimmer straight out a blissed out coastal escape. Label alum Danou P follows up with a further bouncy number, dishing out a seriously infectious mix of acid-abraded bass and warped floor dynamics, ready to knock dancers askew with its lush, synth-flooded hooks and fun-loving, oddball swing.

More on the muscular side of things, Ben Diggins clocks in with the steroid-fueled balearic hoodoo of ‘Mascotte’ - a tune built for the undying after vibes, when the sun begins to rise and the crowd’s levels of serotonin hit a new high. Prismatic and powered-up, Diggins’ track injects any heavy-lidded engine with his own concoction of driving percussion, utopian motifs and fluttering, ambient-leaning harmonics.

Rounding off this four-part sonic journey, Colombian vibist DFRA teams up with Argentinian singer Denise Izaguirre on the heavily Latin jazz-informed, ‘Impulse’. Soulful and oneiric, the song taps in both artists’ musical heritage whilst pushing for new directions through the combined use of electronic and acoustic instruments (congas, trumpet, synths, drum machine…) - contrasting and complementary, shaping an entirely new and singular vision that is drenched in a bittersweet blend of warm melancholy and bracing hopefulness

Ecstatic’s dreamiest cadets bliss out on a new album of acoustic and electric guitar, harmonium and synth tapestries, notably nestling a Romance cameo within a genteel toggle of atmospheric pressure.

Back on (side) road after releasing quietly acclaimed kosmische gem ‘I Had too Much to Dream Last Night’ back in 2021 and the lysergic lushness of ‘Listen to the Sky’ a couple of years later, Celestial suggest a more sublime return to earth with the shine-eyed wonders of ‘I Can Hear the Grass Grow’, an album that soothes to the supine in eight shimmering parts of pearlescent melodic motifs marbling harmonious backdrops intended to tenderly comb nerves straight.

The duo take their role as seductive sandmen with a curious melodic wit that leaves something to the imagination whilst nudging it along the album’s narrative thread. A courtly flamenco lick flickers in opener ‘The Endless Stair’, one of the most restrained recordings we've heard from the childhood friends; blessed with just a little reverb and echo, as if a mic's been lowered into some dimly lit basement while Celestial puzzle out mystifying, interlocking harmonies. It hits a mid-point between John Fahey's raga-inspired Americana and Vini Reilly's rain-soaked Northern blues - the emotion throbs from every note.

Celestial's music is never too polished, giving it the fuzzy, uninhibited flair of a long-lost mail order private press and instilling it with a level of humanity that's rare to discover in the new-new age. Even when mysterious labelmate Romance turns up to ornament 'Mermaid Boulevard' with backmasked electronics, it's their low-slung Ry Cooder-esque guitar/bass that provides the narrative anchor, while the title track and spongiform analog textures of ‘Song For The rainy Season’ dial it right down to a Harmonia-via-BoC pastoral sublime. Vini Reilly and Eno’s influence is most surely felt on the swaying elegance of ‘Sweet Sleep, Angel Mild’, with a central motif that lingers on the mind long after it’s stopped playing, whilst their closing couplet perfectly resolves the cycle with a melancholic kiss-off for the ages.

Better Living Through Chemistry wasn’t just Fatboy Slim’s breakthrough - it helped redefine what electronic music could be in the mainstream. Released in 1996, the album arrived at a pivotal moment in UK club culture, fusing big beat, acid house energy and sample-heavy experimentation into something irreverent, accessible and unmistakably British. Tracks like “Everybody Needs a 303,” “Going Out of My Head,” and “The Weekend Starts Here” captured the anarchic spirit of the era while laying the foundation for a sound that would dominate late-’90s pop culture.

To celebrate the 30th Anniversary of Norman Cook’s career as Fatboy Slim, BMG will reissue his debut album ‘Better Living Through Chemistry’, also turning 30 in September.

The 2LP will be remastered at half speed, following previous Fatboy Slim classic album remastered reissues and feature new liner notes from journalist Alexis Petridis.

The 2CD will include a bonus disc, b-sides with a brand-new remix with inclusion of the Alexis Petridis liner notes.

Fohn conjures a dreamlike landscape of introspective beauty, loneliness and transience from analogue tape and field recordings on new album, Porcelain.

A late summer evening in southern France. The dry mistral wind billows the washing that hangs outside the windows on narrow streets, bringing with it the first whispers of autumn. In the distance children are playing in the square, their shouts caught in the dust whipped up by their feet. A bell tolls, the light dies, and a rich, compelling solitude descends.

Violinist and multi-instrumentalist Fohn, aka Tom Connolly, describes the act of making music as “building fictional environments that become places of solace,” and a process of translation and projection that bridges his internal and external worlds.

While musicians like John Also Bennett, Oren Ambarchi and Connolly’s own group Quade drift behind his sound, Porcelain draws its temperamental inspiration from films like Call Me My Your Name and Andrei Tarkovsky’s The Mirror, as well as the sculptures of Anthony Gormley, whose solitary figures stand isolated in expanses of water along the UK coastline.

How does Connolly describe the atmosphere he wants the music to evoke? “It's the feeling of the inevitability of something having to pass,” he answers. “It's compelling because it's fundamentally unattainable. You're searching and grasping for something that you can never fully hold.”

A moving, intimate and deeply personal album, Porcelain shimmers in the illusive light of melancholy. For Connolly it provided the release of catharsis, but it’s a feeling that will mean something different to everyone who listens.

Roughly two years after the release of their initial statement of intent, debut single “Toutpartout PT2” with its hypnotic ripples, Andi Haberl and Florian Zimmer aka Bella Wakame have successfully channeled the magic of a 2024 live recording (captured at Berlin’s Donau115 & Silent Green) into their first proper studio offering. You can hear inspirations ranging from Bitchin Bajas, Jeremiah Chiu to Groupshow (Jelinek, Leichtmann, Pekler), the hypnotic, intricate battle between form and freedom (the fun of momentary formlessness) continues to unfold over the course of 10 new tracks, featuring album guest Indra Dunis (Peaking Lights). Their first single "Shades of Nambei" was very much inspired by the wonderful band Spirit Fest and their song "Nambei".

You can either shorten the reins, or you can loosen them – and give things more slack. With Bella Wakame, it’s definitely the latter. Constantly challenging each other, they’re tapping a whole new energy. Tons of different energies.

Based on the impulsive, propulsive interplay between drums/sensory percussion (Andi Haberl) and modular synthesizer (Florian Zimmer), the frenzied, free-form results take listeners into completely new dimensions – sonic worlds that don’t really sound anything like their other musical outlets (The Notwist, SUN, Saroos, Driftmachine etc.).

Whereas most bands tend to notoriously overthink names/monikers, these guys obviously only care about the ecstatic push-and-pull that occurs once their instruments meet and overlap: it’s wildly explosive textures with a booming heart. Moving restlessly between motorik club, electro-acoustic jazz experiments, ambient excursions, and fast-paced instrumental anthems that seem to explode at the seams, one can immediately tell how much they enjoy the newfound freedom, the turbulent encounters born on the spur of the moment.

It’s all about a quick-paced exchange of friendly blows, a chasing of tails into ever-new musical terrains. Relying on just enough form for that wildness to blossom within, their just-in-time dashes continually unfold, refold, return, grow bigger – and leave you startled.

The story of each re-release begins with the original. In the late 90s, Uwe Zahn (Arovane), along with Robert Henke (Monolake) and Stefan Betke (Pole), began releasing music on Torsten Pröfrock’s (Dynamo) newly launched DIN label. This was a very inconspicuous undertaking, but fans of the flourishing IDM, glitch, and constantly evolving abstract techno genres quickly picked up on the quality of sound coming out of Germany. After a few successful EPs, Zahn began working on his debut full-length, Atol Scrap. The release was a success, at least in the underground circles, where followers of the melodic harmonies, stuttering off-beat rhythms, and, most importantly, advanced sound design feverishly consumed the imprint’s output. There was only one thing missing – the album was never pressed on vinyl, and for decades remained in the digital domain. The fans, of course, inquired. There were multiple offers on the table, but Zahn retained control until he was assured that it was properly attained. “I thought of taking everything into my own hands and releasing the record myself,” says Zahn, “but at the end of last year, Matthias from Keplar asked me to re-release Atol Scrap on vinyl.” The label and its owner revolve in the Morr Music universe, and so it made sense for Zahn to trust the platform to treat the record right.

Listening to Atol Scrap over twenty years later it is inane not to admit how well it has held up. Where other genres clearly aged, becoming stale, bland, and dull, the music on eleven tasty tracks still keeps the neurons tickled with each note. More than an echo of the past, the bottled sound truly has matured. Many of the newly evolving techniques are recognizable on the album. “I created the digital artifacts with a digital multi-track recorder, the Fostex D80,” recalls Zahn. “The thing had a scrub wheel with which I could achieve wonderful glitch effects by winding through the audio data. I have sampled and further processed these artifacts.” And this approach is still embedded in Zahn’s sound design. “I still use my 24-track analog desk from Tascam to mix my audio. I love to use hardware synths and samplers. I’ve definitely built upon my studio experience in the 90s.” From this debut to the most recent output, Arovane’s sound has evolved to become more intricate, detailed, and pronounced. “My music has become much quieter and much slower. But that’s probably also due to the noise in the world.” And just as Atol Scrap reminds Zahn of the past, retaining charm preserved in a container traveling through time, it also jitters memories of long ago, when we were twenty years younger, less experienced, and bold. For me, among the many records of the time, this album held a special place in life, my heart, and many CD boxes moved across the world. And now I’m only happy to restock the vinyl space, where Atol Scrap belongs among the beloved records. Welcome home. - Mike Lazarev

Remastered and cut to vinyl by Kassian Troyer @ D&M. Cover art by Jim Kühnel based on a photograph by Uwe Zahn.

Since the release of DAMAGED in 2024, Michael Fiedler aka GHOST DUBS has been surfing intensifying waves of adulation, earning praise from such diverse underground legends as Justin Broadrick (Godflesh/Jesu), Regis, Stefan Betke (Pole) and Steve Von Till (Neurosis). With second album Oblique, his mastery of sculpting sound waves results in a spellbinding set of alien soundscapes: larger in scale, richer in tone and considerably more cinematic than its predecessor. Lower, deeper and moodier, its cloudy abstractions, shadowy pulsations and submerged rhythms find Fiedler reaching further into his own sonic void, crafting blurred melodies and addictive narco loops into something simultaneously heavyweight and hypnotic. Album opener "Low Times" sets the atmospheric pressure to maximum, resembling a dream date between prime dirt-house era Andy Stott and Berlin dub-tech pioneers Basic Channel. From there, Oblique descends into a series of enchanting mood scenes: the furtive, balletic gyrations of "After All", the haunting ambience and buried heartbeat throb of "Soft Collapse", and the noirish atmospherics of "Blackout Dust", which worms its way into the mind like some forgotten David Lynch scene. The spirit of reggae is more distanced here than on DAMAGED, but the ghost of Jamaican dub still permeates these foggy soundscapes, particularly on "Bombed Suburbs", where Augustus Pablo-style melodicism is chopped, screwed and slowed into a magnetic lock groove. Superficially minimal but maximal in its minute detail, Oblique is a record of contorted reflections, mesmeric echoes and tantalising audio mirages. By the vaporous mist of closing track "Almost a Structure", obvious rhythm has been craftily filtered away, leaving a blurred and blunted residue full of mystery and implied narrative. Dense in the best possible sense and crushing when played loud yet equally potent played quiet, Oblique imagines dub techno burning its own rigid rulebook: sensual, funky and concussive rather than dry or alienating. "Second album from electronic producer Michael Fiedler's GHOST DUBS project. "Follows up from the highly-acclaimed 'Implosion' album with The Bug from 2025. "Debut album 'Damaged' sold out its three initial pressings and has just been repressed "Michael Fiedler recently scored 'Sound of Falling' which won a Cannes award in 2025 and made the shortlist for an Oscar, too.

Flug brings his singular vision to Backspin Records with 'From My Soul', a 7-track EP that marks a powerful new chapter for both artist and label, rounded out by a remix from Kashpitzky. Moving between deep emotional techno, raw percussive functionality and high intensity, the release showcases Flug's signature precision and narrative depth while keeping things classy and never falling for overused tropes. Kashpitzky completes the package with a remix that reinterprets the source material from a darker, more straight-forward angle. ??

Opening with the title track 'From My Soul', Flug sets off on an epic 8-minute journey built on reverberating melodic layers, shimmering chord pads and a strong low endthat unfolds slowly and deliberately, balancing emotional weight with a hypnotic drive. 'Make It Loud' follows with a more stripped, functional direction, where warm low-end energy, minimal percussion and reverb-drenched sine wave synth hits create a tight, circular groove anchored by a subtle but sinister vocal presence. ??

On the flip side, 'Human Instinct' turns the energy more direct and physical, driven by a saturated kick drum, looping synth motifs and sparse vocal cuts that heighten tension without disrupting the flow. 'The Awakening' expands the emotional scope with a deep kick and tom-driven bassline, expansive droning pads and dragging percussion that build a rich, cinematic atmosphere. Kashpitzky's remix reimagines the original at a faster BPM with distorted chord stabs, off-grid hi-hats and layered synth work creating a tense, industrial atmosphere that breaks into a spacious breakdown before dropping back into a stripped,high-impact groove. ??

With the 'From My Soul' EP, Flug marks a strong first statement on Regal's Backspin Records, delivering a cohesive body of work that balances depth, emotion and dancefloor utility, reinforcing the label's dedication to innovative techno.

South African multi-instrumentalist Mpumi Dhlamini’s Nebula Nomad explores themes of deep inner reflection and cosmic wonder. The EP puts three tracks from the 2024 album on vinyl for the first time: two reimagined versions of earlier compositions ‘The Higher Being’ and ‘Sibusise Nkosi’, along with ‘Culmination’. Dhlamini writes, produces and performs all vocals and instruments, with contributions from Mzizi, Tendai 'Shoxx' Shoko, Ayo Solanke, Sibusiso Mkhize, Zoe The Seed and Sphelelo Mazibuko. A brief introduction to a remarkable talent at the vanguard of South African spiritual jazz who has battled adversity and come out stronger, with something important to say.

The re-launch of mars assault records last year brings the possibility to re-issue its back-catalog: the tunes that were released during the first run of the label (1998-2003).
here we have 4 tracks from "Arach", from the studio concept "centiped sound system", ( a duo of composers, also including Peter Pan), which were originally released on two records ( mars assault 3.65b, mars assault 3.7r1) in the years 2000/2001: very sharply produced hard-tekno, very original also (the "sound of centiped" is like no other hardtechno), and yet 100% as relevant on the dancefloor nowadays as it was at the time.
Another mars assault record equality good to play in a party as to listen to at home.
2025 cut with Hervé at dK Mastering /Paris (cut in 33/45rpm for optimum sound quality); 300 copies limited re-press, 180g pressing; a very sober object on the outside, but translucide red within.

Side A opens with "Volle Vahrt Voraus" – a full throttle, driving Tekno track by VaZdaZ. It originates from a heavy distorted drum machine session. Followed by the slovenian duo Stagnat with "Rehabilitation Of Ratlike People" – a groovy and complex tune, that maybe lets you question your sanity a bit and puts you either out or back in rehab.

Side B continues with "Forever" by Keinponny. With its hard kicks and driving force, it’s designed to mix seamlessly with whatever comes next… so it never truly ends. Finally, TakaTuka wraps things up with "Distbits". A hard hitting finale. Sigmund Freud’s opening sample quickly gets hammered away by a brutal kick & bass combo. Suddenly your oedipus complex is the last thing on your mind.

Hazy, unhurried ambient escape Hidden Hour feels less like an album and more like a collection of small, deliberate pauses from Los Angeles-based Cynthia Bernard. The 18 tracks add up to an album exactly an hour long, and each one is tied to a specific place, be that a bridge, a mountaintop in Los Padres, a friend's tea hut in Mendocino, and you can hear that groundedness in every choice, from glockenspiel to piccolo guitar to lap steel. Collaborations with Liom and Dimming blend in seamlessly to Marine Eyes' first solo release on her own label, Cloud Collecting, and it carries the mark of someone able to soundtrack stillness with real beauty.

1982 4-Piece Demo' is the first official, fully-licensed and unreleased material to be released under the name Strawberry Switchblade in 30 years. Since disbanding amid major record label acrimony and personal differences in 1986, the already-cult band have since grown in stature and legend. Trailblazers in many ways, the band's mythology justifiably centers around the charismatic duo of Jill Bryson and Rose McDowall, but that isn't a complete picture. Bryson and McDowall's growing friendship, having met some years earlier on the punk scene, became a creative partnership: Bryson's art school background and McDowall's history in avant-punk group The Poets meant Strawberry Switchblade was a band pitted against many established norms. The band's very first incarnation, an all-female 4 piece, recorded one demo at Glasgow's Hellfire Club and played a handful of gigs. Friends Janice Goodlett and Carole McGowan completed the line up on bass and drums respectively. Strawberry Switchblade would eventually pair down to a duo and go on to chart success but it's in these raw, passionate recordings that the songwriting and vocal elements were being hammered out and explored in real time.


Spanish Song' is a previously unreleased song. With Rose McDowall's instantly recognizable lead vocal dovetailing with Bryson's harmonies and lead guitar, it's the first glimpse at an alternative history of Strawberry Switchblade. This incarnation could easily have been featured on a Nuggets compilation or a precursor to the indie-pop revolution that would take over British bedrooms a couple of years later. "Trees & Flowers" is instantly recognizable, a bona fide classic that would earn the band its first record deal. Here it's given a more forceful rhythm section: Goodlett and McGowan's playing is in fact accomplished and doesn't hint at the bands' youth. "Go Away" would also surface later on the band's debut LP but here it is a moody-garage stomper with a psychedelic, haunting refrain. These 3 songs point to a tantalizing future of the band that was never realized.


Remastered and restored by Sean Pennycook from the original cassette, with artwork based on a single photographic contact sheet (the only visual evidence of the band in this form) and with a booklet of photographs and new text. Pa

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

,Manchmal wird das Leben so düster, dass es sich wie ein böser Trip anfühlt", reflektiert Lily Seabird über die Zeit, die zur Entstehung ihres neuen Albums ,Lightspheres on Their Way" führte. Seabirds drittes Album innerhalb von ebenso vielen Jahren bei Lame-O Records beschäftigt sich mit Sterblichkeit und der Ehrfurcht vor dem Menschen Innersten und verbindet ihren trubadurhaften Folk mit einer grungigen Rock- Sentimentalität. Obwohl das Album aus einer Zeit der Abrechnung und Erneuerung hervorgegangen ist, orientiert Seabird ,Lightspheres on Their Way" an einem ganzheitlichen Realismus, der den Geist beflügelt, mit lockeren, erdigen Arrangements, die Intensität und Tiefe sowohl mit twangiger Weite als auch mit mitreißendem Drive verbinden. Über die neun Titel des Albums hinweg kreist die in Vermont lebende Sängerin und Songwriterin um das Konzept der ,Lichtkugeln", einer katalysierenden Präsenz oder Kraft, die immer wieder auftaucht und Geschichten, Gefühle und Lebenswege verändert. ,Eine Lichtkugel kann so vieles sein", sagt Seabird, ,ein tatsächliches Licht wie ein Stern, die Sonne, ein UFO; Scheinwerfer, eine Taschenlampe in der Nacht; aber auch das Leben, Lebewesen, Menschen, Beziehungen." Obwohl ,Lightspheres" einen Höhepunkt in Seabirds Songwriting markiert, betont sie, dass ,die emotionalsten Teile des Albums instrumental sind." Der Crazy-Horse-Stomp von ,Portal to the Past" und anderen Stücken geht in weitläufige, jamartige Zwischenspiele und Outros über, in denen Seabird und Rick Soszynski sich an verzerrten, rauen Gitarrenklängen erfreuen. Sie wirken wie Momente der emotionalen Entspannung, als würde man die Fenster herunterkurbeln und sich der Weite der offenen Straße hingeben. Lightspheres ist ein Beweis dafür, welche Tiefen man in seiner Kunst erreichen kann, wenn man aufhört, die Geschichte dessen zu erzählen, was einem widerfahren ist, und stattdessen darüber spricht, wer man ist.

opo’s 666ridims (2020 - 2026), compiled by J.TRIPP, brings together tracks from his 666ridims netlabel, reflecting on the singular sound worlds of some of his solo work. Like a discovery made by neutrino sensors, opo’s tracks research the transformation of rhythm, swing, and structure, aiming for a new grid. Sketchy and raw, processing emotions and experiences, regaling stories, and asking questions, opo relates in trance verse. All tracks here breathe his focus on improvisation, experimentation, and collaboration. Some of the beats featured on 666ridims (2020 - 2026) are outlines for freestyles and songwriting ideas, a practice formed during a long-distance music conversation with illustrator, printmaker, painter, designer, and maker Billy Bigwood. Other tracks are more club-oriented, like speculative genres programmed in odd meters. Japanese Barcelona-based DJ Hanakito contributes to one track, using samples and chops sourced from her vinyl imports.

Through Afroelectronic experimentation and diasporic narratives, opo encodes his soul's past and future through his music. Encoded, activated, returned. Initiate only when you receive permission from all your mental fragments. Keep transmissions in mind and dislodge and follow the command cluster's trail. Strongly influenced by sci-fi, ancestral afro musics, jazz, performance art, and food, as musical lines and shards of meaning cascade, 666ridims (2020 - 2026) is a minimalist dive into strange meters, polyrhythm, and the transcendence of ideas. Fast, slow. Exhilarating. We don’t discover physical laws; we just collaborate on them.

The first transmission from Pink Dolphin arrives on a double-sided 12” – two sides of music following the warmth, movement and possibility of an endless day.

Night Wind moves with the ease of a warm summer afternoon – light, fluid and quietly uplifting. Rhythm and atmosphere flow together with an effortless sense of motion, like a breeze arriving from somewhere just beyond the horizon. There is a feeling of open space throughout: sunlight on water, windows open, landscapes slowly passing by. Nothing feels hurried. The music simply finds its own pace, suspended somewhere between movement and stillness.

As the music unfolds, familiar elements seem to drift in and out of focus, leaving just enough unexplained. It feels less like a destination than a moment – one of those stretches of summer when time loosens its grip and the day seems capable of continuing indefinitely.

Night Wind is a small escape into that space.

After 4 years of re-issuing some of the best house and disco, from hard to find deep-house gems to all times classics, Groovin Recordings are really excited to start releasing new music too, featuring some of the best young producers from the new generation. The first release introduces Groove Boys Project (Lucas Moinet and Alexandre Valard), a talented duo from Paris with a unique sound, a classy mix of fender rhodes, jazz chords, MPC based drum beats, soulful strings and some classic synths.
“Studio 937 cuts” is a two tracks EP that show their skills in the best way.
"Never Give Up" is a sophisticated jazzy-house track, composed with Kamasari and GBSiX who wrote the lyrics and the vocal part too. You’ll never get tired of GBSiX’s vocals !
On the B side "Deep In The Blue" is a Fender Rhodes deep-house ballad from Lucas Moinet, for all the Rhodes lovers out there.

Crafting another beautiful experience in sensorial delight, fleet.dreams returns to Vinezza with the label’s 3rd offering “A Voice Without Color” - born from an ever-deepening practice of groove-powered depth tech melded with realms of dubwise kineticism, enchanted cognition, and expressive, dreamlike synthesis.

“A Voice Without Color” finds fleet.dreams’ music in its most rave-activated mode yet, crafting 4 pieces of infinitely mixable spectral matter - all part of their own universe beckoning to be heard under the glow of stars in the night sky, or floating amidst the mesmerizing fog & lights pumping out of the system on your favorite dancefloor.

Awash in kaleidoscopic splendor and psychedelic intrigue, “A Voice Without Color” finds kinship in everything from the best of expansive dancefloor kineticism, time dilated wonder, and the vivid reverbations of the natural world floating in the mix. At once quintessential, contemporary, and ubiquitous is fleet.dreams’ own remarkable production technique, each track unfurling in seemingly endless swells of simmering rhythm and hypnotizing atmospherics - new memories of circadian entrancement in their molten essence, designed to blissfully guide you deeper and deeper towards the primordial exhilaration of movement. Undulating with vivid pulsations and clarion calls for the hips and mind echoing across a spiraling gyre, the sprawling waltz of “A Voice Without Color” glides through dazzling chroma and effulgent radiance greater than the sum of its parts.

Painting with bold, prismatic strokes of iridescent friction amidst the listless gray of our increasingly dispassionate timeline, fleet.dreams delivers another EP of style, substance, and vision for the dancers and DJs alike - a future classic of a possible world ready to be activated together.

*words by Kiernan Laveaux

Early support from: Kiernan Laveaux, Daniel Rincón (NAP), Scott Zacharias & Amelia Holt

Gnod's now twenty year journey through spiritual and audial exploration has been driven by relentless curiosity, magpie irreverence and a fierce countercultural imperative, their project has always refused to acknowledge all or any rules and boundaries, internal or external. The latest adventure of this band may never have been intended to celebrate their two-decade anniversary, but in true Gnod fashion by, what began as a trip into a residential studio setup in Hellfire Studios with producer John `Spud' Murphy (Lankum, Black MIDI, Caroline) for six days, resulted in more potent material than anyone bargained for. The end result has been three studio albums to be released over the next year. "This trilogy revealed itself to us in the studio" says Paddy. "We were hoping to get a good album out of the session and lo and behold we got three of the fuckers. It's interesting that we did pretty much capture the full spectrum of the Gnod sound across all three". In fact, this intrepid first instalment of the `Chronicles Of Gnowt' trilogy covers an alarming amount of sonic territory all on its own. Driven as always by the power of repetition as well as Gnod's alchemical marriage of the maximal and the minimal, this album is imbued with a vivid focus that's testimony to the chemistry of the sessions, coupled with a detailed and spacious production from Murphy that brings out the psychedelic sound worlds of the band in vivid colour. This is a travelogue which delves into pastoral tranquillity (as on `Three Trees Parts 1&2') just as adeptly as expansive Earth-tinged riff monoliths (`All Tunnel No Light') and just as formidably as the closing epic `Ekstasis' - a hallucinatory vista where kraut-tinged experimentalism meets Swans-style intensity. Yet all the while, truly sounding like no one but Gnod.

Uncompromising Italian DJ/producer The Southern makes his vinyl debut on Mutual Rytm's sub-label, Spectra, with remixes from Alarico, Temudo and Sciahri. An EP marking an impressive label debut, Carmine Portarulo, aka The Southern, lands on Mutual Rytm’s sub- label Spectra with a powerful showcase of his much-loved sound. With the lead track featuring as one of label head SHDW's most requested IDs of the year so far, and packaged alongside outstanding remixes by close label associates Alarico, Temudo and Sciahri, the EP comes having established himself with a sound rooted in old school value and pure techno, favouring energy and authenticity over hype. The track’s backstory comes from the moment Carmine and his partner found out they were expecting a child and went for their first ultrasound appointment. Overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment and the beauty of what nature is capable of, he returned home and poured those feelings into the music. The result, ‘Ultrasound’, is an anthemic, punchy techno cut with euphoric energy rising up through the synths and its catchy lead melody. Joyful melodies sparkle amid vocal groans, adding a raw emotional pull as the warm, driving drums march on. Berlin-based artist Alarico is the first to remix on his return to the label, and his ‘Sad Mix’ has a more melancholic mood, with dark chords and tightly programmed drums that bring lo-key funk. Hayes Collective founder Temudo also returns and flips the vibe on his ‘Neuro Interpretation’ with a more psyched-out, twisted tune featuring trippy synths and booming drums for peak-time impact. Italo-Iranian Sublunar Records head Sciahri then drops his trance- inducing, hypotonic ‘Tunnel Vision Mix’, followed by two digital bonuses: ‘The Stripped Mix’, a bouncy workout with futuristic melodies, and Temudo’s ‘Neuro Interpretation 2’, which is raw, textured, and dark.

likethis have been doing fine work reissuing Eddie Richards gems from his peerless vaults and he often gives them a fresh lick of paint for the occasion, as he did with these two tunes, which came out back in January but soon disappeared. Thankfully, we're treated to a repress on 180 gram vinyl. 'Be Still' (revisit) is first and is one of those grooves you lean back for - the drums are seductive and persuasive rather than overly forceful and are laced with pads that only heighten the breezy effect. 'AbsurED' is tougher, with swinging 909s that are deep but jacked and brought to life with spoken words and blasts of bold bass.

Some 15 years into the label's story, Japanese deep house minimalist Sasaki Hiroaki continues to offer up EPs rich in ultra-deep ambient chords, hushed and hypnotic beats, and the kind of beautiful musical touches that have always been a key part of Japanese deep house culture. Opener 'Geograph' sees him place echoing piano motifs and pulsing ambient electronics atop a sparse tech-house groove, while 'Projection' is a deliciously deep, dreamy and shuffling slab of ambient house excellence. Over on side B, 'Do It (repeat)' is a spaced-out chunk of minimalist dub techno goodness and title track 'The Last Bohemian' is a warming and meditative dancefloor drift.

Two more sure fire party starters on the RnB tip from Home Hitters - knocking them out of the park again!

Modern Apartments arrive on Dark Entries, with Light on Water, an LP featuring 8 cuts of instrumental cosmic-kosmische analog synth workouts. Modern Apartments is Ryan Ambridge, the musician and producer best known for his work with dark synth projects Linea Aspera and Lust Pattern. While both of those outlets lean towards the greyscale and robotic, Ambridge wanted to explore a more colorful palette with Modern Apartments, a livelier, looser sound. The medium of film plays a major role here; Ambridge works as a projectionist, screening archival prints of 35mm and 16mm films, and the textures and temporality of the medium fed directly into the Modern Apartments aesthetic. But it isn’t all blurry edges and fuzzy optimism on Light on Water. Says Ambridge, “Regular beats from old rhythm boxes and the sharp angles of post-punk found their way in. The contrasting imagery from those old film prints, of dense cities and open countryside, is reflected back in the dialog between looser sounds and rigid stylistic choices.” This tension shines through on tracks like album opener “Completely,” which pairs the icy minimalism of John Foxx with the meandering grooves of Cluster, or the eponymous “Light on Water” which leans even further into the sun-bleached vibes of Roedelius. Artwork for this record was designed by Eloise Shir-Juen Leigh. Light on Water is perfect late-summer listening, as the last gasps of seasonal radiance fade into autumnal splendor.

Baka G unleashes some feel good house grooves in time for the summer. We've checked all the weather forecasts and the outlook is SUNNY!

Japanese crossover and fusion are hot again now. As either an outgrowth of, or a spin-off phenomenon from, the global reappraisal of
city pop, Japanese fusion has been rapidly rising since around last year.
Widely known as a support member for YMO and also popular on the overseas club music scene through Colored Music, her cuttingedge dance-pop unit with Atsuo Fujimoto, keyboardist, composer, and vocalist Ichiko Hashimoto released this, her second solo work, in
1985. Released on DOMO, the label headed by Kazumi Watanabe, and naturally produced by Kazumi Watanabe himself, who also plays
guitar on the album.
A truly crossover work of remarkable freedom, moving across fusion, techno, piano pieces, danceable music, classical, Japanesque
sounds, bossa nova, ambient, and more. Her fleeting singing voice is wonderful as well.

Pressure is the medium of wind players. Wind instruments all sound thanks to pressure differentials, whether that’s the rush of wind over a lip plate or a steady, buzzing exhalation through pursed lips. Ka Baird and Chris Ryan Williams (HxH) are wind players well- schooled in the power of using pressure and movement to amplify the mystery of an invisible force animating a metal tube. They augment their instruments, flute and trumpet respectively, with electronics, sometimes obscuring the acoustic sound source, sometimes making it hyperreal. Flutters of lip and tongue slither over the listener’s ear, and sustained tones become a dense fog, pushing on other kinds of visceral, emotional pressure points.

On Enthalpy, Baird and Williams’ first album as a duo, the energy they conjure feels barely contained, the pressure built up to a breaking point before spilling out in multiple directions at various speeds. They borrow the title from thermodynamics, referring to the total energy of a system based on its pressure and volume. The music flies out in bursts; it seeps and oozes, flows with intention. It is an incredibly rhythmic work without any hint of meter, full of sounds that punctuate with the thud of a dart hitting a bullseye. Williams’ capability to conjure swirling atmospherics, as well as his remarkable ability to pull fragments of melody from the haze, fit puzzle-like into Baird’s exclamations and the eruption of electronics that often dovetail them. The duo draws on tones from nearly the entire range of human hearing, from nimble but bulbous throbs of sub-bass to pinprick flickers of ultra-high end.

The sessions that produced Enthalpy were completely improvised, showcasing a degree of mind-meld that belies each participant’s thrill at approaching the unknown. This isn’t a casual conversation, but an omnidirectional tangle that ties and reties itself into new knots as the album progresses. Williams and Baird have both become ubiquitous presences throughout the New York City experimental music communities, collaborating with innumerable others and learning how their unique approaches work in tandem with similarly expansive thinkers and players. Even in the album’s most spacious moments, there’s a tension between the feeling of being unmoored and yet completely locked in, like the abyss is just one more river to cross. They ford it together before moving on to the next idea in lock step.

For the listener, Enthalpy is often felt in the body as much as it reverberates within the ears. We’re tossed from side to side, made to shoulder the impact of detonating electronics, absorbing these sounds with the feet, gut, and crown. Baird reaches into the back of their throat for guttural growls, and we can almost feel the scratch. As we tread the border of the synthesthetic, it's a reminder of the physical nature of sound, that the space between our ears and the speakers is its own enthalpic system of energy conduction. Move with it, let it move you, and see how it feels.

The Montréal psych-ambient synth-droners return with Sequence Three, their first album in five years and the final instalment in the group's opening trilogy of records that began with Sequence One in 2019. The spectral supergroup co-founded by Stephen Ramsay (Young Galaxy) and Jace Lasek (The Besnard Lakes), usually joined in some capacity by Lasek's Besnard bandmate Olga Goreas, deliver another dose of its trademark longform slowburn jams, forged from restored vintage synths and analogue electronic gear. Lasek and Ramsay don their seasoned producer hats to apply rockist sound design to minimalist tracks, saturated with tube compression, drenched in pink and brown noise, all queasy modulation, sparse beats, and languorous melodic lines. Evoking a humid dawn on a gas giant, these alien drone anthems meld the numinous transcendentalism of Spiritualized and Cluster with the eroded grit of William Basinski and GAS. Light Conductor has been tagged "heavyweight analogue synth nirvana" by Uncut Magazine and praised for its "fabulous, epic, shimmeringly radiant kosmische" by Electronic Sound, among other accolades. Sequence Three consolidates these strengths, while leaning into the darker disquietude that has always been an undercurrent of Light Conductor's aesthetic. Opener "She Glitters The Dust" fades up slow with intertwining detuned synth loops, a languorous lullaby beat dropping at the 3-minute mark, accompanied by insectoid shimmers and a tease of melody that's eventually given free reign over the song's second half. Aptly titled, it's as if a transmission captured within a cosmic dust cloud has provided the raw material for the band to jam on, tease out, and terrestrialize. An echo of that beat sets the tranced pulse for "Omenize", the centerpiece of Side One and the fulfilment of Light Conductor's one-vocal-track-per-album directive. With layered harmonies by Goreas and Lasek, this is the group at its ethereally anthemic best, the devotional floating-in-space bliss attenuated by another gently warped denouement. "Ghost City Radio" closes out Side One with the band's most overtly anxious tune to date, deceptively stolid in its simple bass guitar riff and filter-swept hi-hat: groove stripped to its minimum as the foundation for an extended spokenword sample of a doomsaying prepper/preacher, a sort of homage to that early hallmark of their Godspeed compatriots, done up through the lens of Light Conductor's inimitably destabilized celestial ambience. (Lasek mixed the most recent two GY!BE albums.) Side Two offers up "High In The Orange Air", a beatless, squelching, bubbling ostinato drone and the album's most orthodox ambient kosmische track. This provides the set and setting for 15-minute closer "Supercontinent", which starts off in similar territory but gradually yields to a submerged and reversed techno pulse pumping through coruscated chordal drone, gaining in woozy mesmeric psych intensity over its inexorable hypnagogic trajectory. Sequence Three rounds out a satisfying trio of full-lengths that Light Conductor has released on Constellation, featuring vibrantly minimal geometric cover art designed by label co-founder Ian Ilavsky that integrates the trilogy as a visual series as well. In keeping with the previous two albums in the set, the Deluxe 180gLP includes a 12"x24" art poster. Thanks for listening.

First up in the series - Heavy Salsa and Latin Soul from Puerto Rico-born pianist Eddie Lebron and Orquesta Suave, the album that kickstarted Ghetto Records. Ghetto Records was Joe Bataan’s way to get over on “The Man” and out of the ‘hood, a bold move by an artist looking for independence and creative control in an industry that had exploited his talents and treated him like chattel. As Bataan puts it today, “Ghetto Records was part of my journey, a stepping stone to everything else that I’ve done. I learned enough that it enabled me to get out of the box with my thinking, it showed me how to deal with adversity.” Like many dreams and schemes born of the street, this one was audacious, perhaps even reckless to a fault. Hatched from desperation yet full of hope Ghetto Records came crashing down shortly after its inception. The seven albums in its discography languished out of print - until now. These are the definitive reissues of these albums, licensed from Joe Bataan, with his oversight and input into a 16 page oversize book by Pablo Yglesias that details Bataan’s larger-than-imagination life and his little Latin label that could.

The hardest part of ending is starting again.

After a seven-year hiatus following the devastating loss of their beloved bandmate, LINKIN PARK’S remaining members struggle to find their way forward. Their shared history and enduring friendship, combined with the fresh perspective of two new band members spark a renewed creative energy that leads them on a transformative journey of artistic reinvention.

Following the band from intimate 2022 studio sessions through their explosive November 15, 2024 FROM ZERO album release and concert in São Paulo, the film UNSHATTER weaves together rare vault footage, electrifying performances from sold-out shows, and candid interviews with band members and fans—capturing the raw, honest story of what it means to start over.

This accompanying Film Soundtrack (Live in São Paulo) features transcendent performances of songs spanning their entire career, including exclusive recordings not experienced in the film.

Jason Dungan (aka Blue Lake) and Johan Carøe find beauty in the rhythms
and repetitions of domestic life for collaborative album, 'Routine' - out September 25

Copenhagen-based multi-instrumentalists Jason Dungan and Johan Carøe didn't set out to make an album. Instead, as the title 'Routine' suggests, they found their way there through a process of habitual making and listening, developing an intuitive musical language to reflect the dreamlike meanderings and creative play of life's quiet moments. 'Routine' blends pop orientated sounds, Avant-garde minimalism, folk and new age with the emotive depth of film-score.

Their meeting was not entirely coincidental. Previously in bands such as Squares and Triangles, Jason Dungan has since recorded multiple albums under the moniker Blue Lake, including the lauded 'Sun Arcs', pursuing his passion for self-built percussion and multi-string instruments. Johan Carøe meanwhile is a composer whose film soundtrack work has seen him collaborate with Angelo Badalamenti, Arp, and Sofie Birch, at whose Andersabo residency (curated by Dungan) the pair first met, resulting in the highly praised album 'Repair Techniques' written by Birch and Carøe.

'Routine' emerged organically over many years against the backdrop of great personal change. As Carøe said goodbye to his father and welcomed his first child, the pair sent each other fragments of melodies and patterns, working up responses when time allowed to assemble a sonic palette that combined acoustic instrumentation of zither, clarinet, cello, saxophone (among others) with the textures of tape, drum machine and Yamaha DX7 synth. Inspired by the vulnerability and DIY ethos of Arthur Russell's home recordings, the vision of labels like Disques de Crepescule, and the art pop, experimentation inherent to late '70s and early '80s recordings from NYC and Japan alike, Dungan and Carøe conjured new forms for their folk, leftfield pop and avant garde influences from the low-lit living rooms of Copenhagen and rural Sweden. "I'm very interested in the ways in which music and art emerge from our wider experiences as people, workers, parents and in the daydreaming activity of making music," Dungan explains of a process which allowed the duo's individual styles to drift apart and merge together seamlessly. "I think the process was definitely capturing moments in time, but over a long time," Carøe adds. "It was a bit like improvisation, but with time stretched."

The music floats with grace and humility, remaining sophisticated yet acutely introverted.
Whether on 'Clouds', where soft layers of zither and clarinet are moved along by a featherlight bass riff and the hypnotic clip-clop of the primitive groovebox, or the gentle grandeur of cello rising and falling through 'Routine 1', the album reveals itself over 10 instrumental tracks, evoking the ineffable calm that descends when the light changes and the world turns inwards. The act of time passing became a key creative ingredient to the evolution of the album, enriched with the exciting challenge to transform their passing rounds of home recordings via a slow release musical dialogue. Jason found creative moments in the twilight hours to lay down zither, melodica, acoustic guitar to name but few, while Johan utilising "line-in and headphones" would manipulate, stretch and pitch Jason's melodic pathways during newly born naptimes.

Carøe rhythmically plucks and slides the stringed cello instrument, leaving palpable foundations on 'Hymn' and 'Chords', in a treated, stylistic approach akin to Mabe Fratti, while 'Silence' draws to a close with a gospel touch. Dungan's harp-motion zither flourishes reveal more classical connotations on 'Reunion' with inspiration of Bedroom Community's Nico Muhly as organs rise with Moogs, culminating with a climatic choral outro from friend, mezzo-soprano Anna Caroline Olesen.

'Routine' then is their first collaboration, an album of deep and sincere reflection with inviting overtones that gesture with unrushed authenticity. A document of a new-found friendship that opens a window into the most personal of spaces, where the daily practices of music and life exist side-by-side to wondrous effect.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)